Stanch the Flow of Misery
by Geekery
Summary: Have you ever wondered why Sirius laughed upon being found at Pettigrew's apparent murder scene? I did...
1. Chapter 1

Stanch the Flow of Misery

Sirius absorbed the scene of wreckage around him with sunken, unseeing eyes. Not five hours ago, he had been standing in this same spot, observing the quaint little house that now lay in ruins at his feet. The Potters hadn't even been living in the house for a year. It had been the talk of their small circle of friends for months.

Lily had loved it. There had been "a perfect number of bedrooms", and "a perfect amount of yard space." A large willow tree had shaded the front lawn, and flower boxes had adorned the windows. It was just the type of house little girls dreamt about, and Lily had never stopped dreaming. James had appreciated the house's stability and firm structure, especially in this time of war.

Sirius had to admit, he had been slightly jealous. The interior, what with its homey furnishings and pictures dotting the walls, had made him begin to think about settling down himself.

What lay before him now was merely a gloomy shadow of the happiness that was. The house was… gone, the yard charred and black.

Sirius walked to the grey rubble and stooped to pick up a battered picture frame. He was standing in what had once been the Potter's sitting room. Now there were just bits of wood and brick, some of it was still smoking. He turned over the picture in his hand and his breath caught in his throat. It was the most recent picture of the Potters: James, Lily… and Harry. Harry!

Sirius immediately began searching the ruins for his godson. Losing Lily and James had been bad enough, but to lose Harry would be more than he could take. Harry was his last link to James. Harry was so young. He had to find-

"Oh! It's on'y you, Sirius."

Sirius looked up in surprise to find none other than Rubeus Hagrid brandishing a pink umbrella.

"I thought there fer a momen'…"Hagrid trailed off, lowering his umbrella "Yeh look terrible, Sirius."

"Harry?" was all Sirius managed to croak out

Hagrid nodded, stepping towards Sirius. "I've got 'im 'ere"

Sirius' knees almost went out with relief. He took the bundle of singed rags from the half-giant and looked into the child's face. The face that looked so like James but for Lily's eyes.

Harry began to squirm and cry faintly. Sirius held him close to his body, comforting the baby as best he knew how, and began to weep silently himself. Why couldn't life be simple, be as it had been? When he was hero-worshipped and James had a one track mind. Lily…how beautiful she'd been, full of life and optimism. And those full moons, what trouble they'd caused. What he would give to go back.

Sirius was slightly surprised when Hagrid released him from an embrace he hadn't entirely been aware of. He looked up at the meaty face in gratitude for its silence and turned to walk toward his motorbike. No use staying in this place of loss when Harry needed his sleep. A hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Sirius. Where're yeh goin'?"

"To my place."

"Give Harry here then" With that, Hagrid promptly took the now calm baby from Sirius' arms

For his part, Sirius was stunned. "Give Harry to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather, I'll look after him."

Hagrid was silent for a while, obviously enduring an intense inner debate. Finally he replied. "No, Dumbledore said Harry was to go ter his aunt an' uncles."

Sirius was confused. "James was an only child."

"Lily wasn'. Had a sister."

Sirius was utterly bewildered. Since when had Lily had a sister? Oh, that sister…that sister?!? He began to speak slowly, as though to make sure he had his facts strait. "Dumbledore wants Harry to go and live with muggles who hate wizards?"

Hagrid nodded grimly. "Tha's my orders."

"Harry is a wizard." Sirius stated calmly, his ire beginning to stir from deep within him. He had already lost James and Lily, he would _not_ lose Harry. "He should live with wizards, not muggles, let alone muggles who hate wizards!"

"Dumbledore says he's ter live with his closest kin. Yer not kin."

"I'm his blasted godfather." Sirius spat through gritted teeth "James and Lily both named me godfather."

"Dumbledore said"-

"TO HELL WITH DUMBLEDORE! I'M HIS BLOODY GODFATHER, DAMN YOU!!"

Quick as lightning, Harry disappeared into the confines of Hagrid's coat, and Sirius found himself dangling in the air from Hagrid's massive hand and forearm.

"DON'T EVER TALK ABOU' DUMBLEDORE LIKE THAT AGAIN!"

There was a brief pause while Hagrid panted like a winded bull elephant, and Sirius gave the most murderous expression in all of mankind. Both were seething.

Hagrid put Sirius down and a crying Harry appeared in his arms again.

"Harry is goin' ter live with his aun' and uncle, and there's nothin' you can do about it."

Sirius stared at the gamekeeper for a while, blissfully unaware of the growing crowd of muggles that had begun to filter out of their homes at the shouting. Then, sensing defeat, he looked at the ground, struggling to keep his eyes dry. When he spoke, his voice was very small.

"Well, then…take my motorbike, would you? You'll get to Dumbledore faster."

"But, Sirius, yer motorbike?

The words that came out of Sirius' mouth in reply sounded in a voice that was altogether different from the one he'd used seconds before: hard, guttural, bitter…snarling.

"I won't need it anymore."

And with that, Sirius Black turned on his heel and strode away, clutching a crumpled picture of the Potters, James, Lily, and Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius slumped into a booth in the far corner of a pub near his flat, absolutely miserable. He signaled to a rather busty waitress and drank deeply of the particularly fine year of Firewhiskey she brought him. He knew he shouldn't be drinking, not now. He knew that once he started in his time of bitter misery, he would not stop until the pain went away. He sincerely hoped slipping into oblivion came soon, for he knew the pain would never go away.

It was his fault. He should have seen it coming. Sirius was not one to blame himself for circumstances out of his control, but this time he could not help himself. He knew he was to blame. He had suggested Peter, the dirt bag. He, Sirius, had come to the conclusion that he would be the first place Voldemort would look. Who would have guessed Peter? Poor, sniveling Peter. It made him sick to his stomach to think about what could have been. Or was that the alcohol?

Sensing his impending bacchanalia, he rose and purchased three full bottles of Firewhiskey and somehow found himself in his flat. He staggered to his couch and continued his alcoholic consumption until blackness clouded his vision and his mind.

"_James _think_ about it. If I'm made secret keeper, where d'you think Voldemort will look first? Me! Everyone knows we're best mates and have been since Hogwarts. I'm the logical choice." _

_James looked unconvinced. "So, what was Peter, a fan girl? He's just as much a logical choice as you."_

_Lily, cradling Harry, spoke up. "James, he has a point. I understand that you and Sirius are very close, but Voldemort will go strait to him and you know it."_

_James sighed and looked at his blossoming family. Sirius knew he would eventually come to the same conclusion he had and looked away. His eyes fell on Peter who was looking more nervous by the minute. Sirius gave him a confused look, then looked back to the Potters to find James stepping towards him. The two young men shared a brief, firm hug and then James pulled away. "Pete."_

_At the sound of his name, Peter jumped slightly, and walked over to join his friends, ready to perform the Fiddelius charm. Sirius watched with a grim satisfaction._

_As they were finishing, Sirius noticed a decided uneasiness in the air. The four adults were looking at each other, and when Sirius' eyes turned to Peter, he was horrified to find a Death Eater in his place wielding a terrifying wand. He shouted something causing Sirius to whip around to find James and Lily dead, and Harry had vanished._

Sirius woke to his own scream and hit the floor, having fallen off the couch. He moaned in pain, experiencing his worst hangover to date. He stared at his clock in a stupor. 10:17 When had he fallen asleep? Sirius was under the distinct impression that he had left the pub around one. But he hadn't gotten to sleep until _hours_ after that. Oh well, it didn't matter. The bottom line was he did not have enough sleep. What had woken him at such an ungodly hour anyhow?

Immediately, memories of his dream flooded his clouded brain, and the reason for his drunken misery came to him. With all the strength he could muster, he began to rise to his feet. _Better crawl_. He rose to his hands and knees and began to crawl towards his miniscule kitchen. About halfway there, he decided he merited a much higher need for a toilet. The reason for his trek to the bathroom presented itself to Sirius in the form of a large pile of vomit.

As there was now no need for a bathroom, he headed back toward the kitchen. Having reached the counter, he grasped its edge and pulled himself upright. Bad idea. Sirius then proceeded to deposit the leftover contents of his stomach into the sink. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he reached for his bottle of "Hangover Draught", and took a large swig. He blinked his eyes at the burning the potion left in his throat, and, instantaneously, his symptoms began clearing up. His stomach settled, his eyes cleared quite a bit, and his pounding headache calmed. He now felt as though he had the lightest of hangovers was mercifully able to go change from the sick covered clothes.

After he had pulled on what he thought were the cleanest items of clothing he owned, he studied his sorry figure in his dirty and cracked mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, traces of stubble were rearing their ugly little heads, his clothes were in no shape or form ironed, and his hair was beginning to acquire a little length.

He debated with himself for a full minute about the sanity of the actions he was considering. In the end he decided there was nothing for it. He had nothing else to lose. Everyone that counted was under the impression that he had been the Potters' secret keeper, and would think he had betrayed them to Voldemort. That thought alone was enough to make him forego the hangover stuff and vomit all over again.

Peter deserved to die a most horrible and painful death for what he had done and Sirius was the only one for the job, literally. With that thought, he nodded curtly at his reflection and set out to dole out justice.


	3. Chapter 3

PART III

Sirius had been stalking his childhood friend for the better part of three hours, and he was fed up. He decided to make his presence known. He shot through the crowd with a speed he had not known he possesed. He reached out a hand and grasped Peter's shoulder with a vice-like grip brought on by adrenaline. "Hello, Peter."   
Peter shocked him by escaping his grip and bolting through the sea of muggles. Sirius was barely three yards behind him. Suddenly, Peter darted into a side alley, Sirius followed. He turned the corner to find an empty dead end. His eyes narrowed as he walked toward a corner, his nostrils flared, as if to sniff out the betrayal that emanated from Peter's sorry carcass.  
Sirius heard a soft scratching and whirled around , sending a bolt of lightning at a rat in the middle of the alley. Shortly there after, none other than Peter Pettigrew stood before him. "I knew I smelled worthless vermin!"  
Peter's watery eyes blinked rapidly for a moment before he pulled out a wand. Sirius laughed his bark-like laughter. "Do you honestly think you can kill me in a duel?"  
Pettigrew paused, as though realizing the logic of Sirius' taunt. He then whipped out a knife before Sirius could make a move. When had he gotten so fast? Pettigrew positioned himself towards the middle of the street, a smile curled about his thin lips. Sirius' eyes widened. "Peter, what are you-"  
"Yes Sirius, I do think I could kill you in a duel, but I've a better idea for you." With that he bagan to shout. "Lily and James, Sirius, how could you?" No sooner had the words left his mouth, than Pettigrew had cut off his own finger.  
Both men shot a spell and screamed, one in pain and triumph, the other in agony and desperation. There was a deafening explosion and a blinding light, and when it was over, Sirius was stunned. Peter had dissappeared, and they had busted a sewer line, causing who knows what to shoot out of the large crater in the middle of the road.  
It only took a moment for Sirius' brain to restart...and he began to laugh. He laughed harsh, bitter laughter. He had underestimated Pettigrew and paid dearly for it. He had expected it to be to be easy, remebering all to well the awkward, clumsy, pig of a boy he had known in school. Why should Peter have been any sort of match for Sirius Black, King of Hogwarts?  
Sirius' laughter started anew, only vaguley aware as he was of Ministry Officials gathering, all of whom looked slightly unnerved at Sirius' behavior. He threw his wand to the ground and stopped laughing long enough for the ministry goons to bind him securely.  
It was then that Sirius spotted a thin trail of blood leading down the street and into a manhole. Sirius' laughter rang out louder than before. In fact, he laughed all the way to the ministry.

Sirius was still chukling to himself lightly as he was directed into a large , deep chesnut office. The name on the desk read "Bartemius Crouch: Head of Magical Law Enforcement."  
Sirius only mildly cared what would become of him, and looked so when Crouch himself marched in through a side door.  
"Sirius Black: spy, murderer, and traitor. Do you deny that you are responsible for the deaths of the Potters, Mr. Pettigrew, and thirteen muggles?"  
Sirius opened his mouth to deny, but...no, it was his fault. If he hadn't suggested Pettigrew in the first place, none of this would have happened. "I am responsible for all deaths but Pettigrew's...he's not dead."  
"He's mental," murmered Crouch more to himself than anyone else. "Well, Mr. Black, I'm glad you confessed. You would not have been allowed the privelege of a trial reguardless." He looked to the guard. "Azkaban."  
Azkaban. The word rang like a faraway church bell in his mind. Sirius had only heard rumors, and had never seen a dementor. It was then and there that his eyes began to appear sunken and emotionless.   
The journey to the wizard prison was not all that bad. It was only when he stepped onto the the island and felt all the happiness drain from him that he was truly afraid.

Sirius awoke to the sound of a metal door grinding against a stone floor. He looked over his shoulder and saw his meager excuse for a meal sitting on the floor of his cell. He would eat later. He turned back over and proceeded to dwell on his most recent dream. The deaths of Lily and James, his worst memories, routinely plagued his mind, and Sirius could do nothing to stanch the flow of misery.


End file.
